The Sins of a Solar Empire
by Chaot1kShadow5
Summary: A once-proud, now broken race is fleeing from an unknown enemy; An exiled people, driven by hate, seek revenge for an injustice committed so long ago; and a fledgling race, only just crawling outward, is now being relentlessly swatted aside. This is the story of a bitter conflict throughout the stars, told from the positions of the players with all the cards. Rated T to be safe.
1. -Prologue-

**The Sins of a Solar Empire – Prologue**

**Author's**** Note:** Hello! Welcome to my first attempt at a fanfiction! To be honest I've had the idea for this brewing around in my head for a while now, ever since I imagined a story line based on the intro scenes of the Sins of a Solar Empire games (go check them out, they're amazing), but I've only just been motivated into writing it down. So without further ado, I present to you: "The Sins of a Solar Empire"!

**Disclaimer:** As you may have guessed, I don't own Sins of a Solar Empire (as much as I want to :( ); that honor goes to Ironclad Games. All original characters are mine, though.

* * *

_We were such fools._

_It was all very sudden. At the time our glorious empire was thriving as it always had been. The Dark Fleet brought more worlds into our fold, rewarding us with slaves, resources, and room for our people. Our mastery of phase space, which allowed for extremely rapid faster-than-light travel, among other things, was only improving with time. Nanites continued to astonish us with the rate with which colonies could be erected on desolate worlds, as well as the efficiency with which they rooted out and purged disease._

_But then, in but a single moment, everything was lost._

_It started when our central phase communications hub reported an anomaly. According to the overseer involved, the head of the primary phase space research facility of Tul'var, an Inner Empire world, had failed to submit its daily report. Dismissing it as a simple rebellion of the indigenous population on the world, we sent a small detachment of the Dark Fleet to crush the usurpers, and reclaim the facility._

_Except we never heard from the detachment afterwards. With commendable initiative, the head overseer of the hub reported to the Internal Council, informed them of the current situation, and was discussing further details regarding the anomaly and the disappearance of the detachment when they were called in to investigate another anomaly – three, in fact._

_Thrice again, worlds in the Inner Empire had fallen silent, without warning. A short search into the empire's records showed that they were the worlds directly connected via phase lane to Tul'var, and that they had all ceased communications at roughly the same time._

_Growing concerned, the head overseer contacted the Council directly, and was shocked to learn that they had already heard of the communications failure, and were already amassing the local defense fleet. Ordered to discuss the likely cause of the communications failures with Internal Intelligence, the main espionage branch of the empire, and come up with a solution, the situation was left otherwise unchecked until a conclusion was finally reached and the overseer made to report to the Internal Council._

_Except in the short amount of time it had taken to prepare a solution, several more adjacent inner worlds had fallen silent – including our ancient home-world, Vadrinmar._

_At that point we were in a state of near-panic. Long ago abandoning the notion that a simple rebellion was the cause for this decay, the entire Dark Armada was amassed and sent to the Inner Empire in a desperate attempt to stop the expansion of what came to be known as the Unknown Enemy._

_Much later, at the border world of Tenzeksa, an unmistakably military vessel, quite literally falling apart, was identified emerging from phase space. After the vassal of the colony attempted and failed to make communications with the derelict, a rescue ship was dispatched with a fabricator to salvage the remains. Given the not-too-long-ago announcement that the Dark Armada was deployed to secure the Inner Empire, the crews were left assuming the worst. After all, what would a Dark Armada vessel be doing so far from its objective, so badly damaged, and with its crew apparently so alarmed as to flee from their mission?_

_It was so much worse than any of us had realized._

_Immediately upon entering the vessel, the rescue team was bombarded by the desperate pleas of the surviving Vasari crewmen, who had visibly been reduced to complete madness. Scouring the vessel swiftly proved to be a waste of time, as all other surviving crew on board had been left in the same state. Alarmed by the implications regarding such an enemy, the vassal convened with the other vassals of nearby star systems and, in an unheard-of display of autonomy, did what any sensible being would do, Vasari or not._

_We packed up, rendezvoused at the nearest phase lane, and fled for our lives._

_This process continued for the next 10,000 years. Every so often, the fleeing Vasari populace, referring to themselves now as the Exodus Fleet, would stop in a region of space for some important reason – restocking of resources, boosting the population, kidnapping slave laborers – deploy a beacon, and keep going._

_The beacons served a purpose, and one that had instilled us to maintain our philosophy; Evacuate, Siphon, and Run. Emitting a signal through phase space, they warned any sentient races in the sectors of space we traveled through of the threat chasing after us, and our communications overseers monitored the progress of the Unknown Enemy by keeping notice of the beacons deployed by the Fleet – as well as tracking which ones fell silent, chalked up to the seemingly-impregnable advance of the Unknown Enemy, by this point referred to as "The Pursuer"._

_Never resting, we kept running, never staying for too long in a sector of space before moving on, always monitoring The Pursuer's advance. Given how events have turned since then, this is unlikely to change; the best case scenario now is that this equilibrium will remain constant until the end of time. That being said, no one seems willing to consider the possibility of being caught up to by The Pursuer, shuddering to think of what fate would await us._

_All we can do now is run – Evacuate, Siphon, and Run. Such is the consequence of our folly, our ridiculous degree of standing to which we held ourselves._

_Such is the punishment for the sin of a solar empire._


	2. -Chapter 1: First Contact-

**The Sins of a Solar Empire – First Contact**

_**Author's Note:**__ Hey there, and welcome back! Something I forgot to mention last time is that I will try to update as frequently as I can, but between school and procrastination I can't promise a reliable schedule. Another thing is that my plot for this fanfic was also influenced by a soundtrack I made of my favourite songs from the soundtrack of Sins of a Solar Empire; for full effect, I'll be leaving you with the titles of each track so you can listen to it while you read. Enjoy!_

_**Track (Prologue): The Fallen Empire**_

_**Track (Chapter 1): Quiet 2**_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I WISH I owned Sins of a Solar Empire. The OCs present are mine, however._

* * *

_Korona Central Commerce Station  
Geostationary orbit over Gezobe  
Nostroma System, Trade Order Outer Rim_

As one would expect with such an important orbital structure, it was very, very noisy. And cramped. Oh, and don't forget smelly, the smells were _everywhere_.

Angela Ballard didn't mind though; it's not like she was going to be swimming through this veritable horde of people, moving like a river through the light-filled canyon that was the Main Shopping District, much longer. Quickly running through her favourite route through the station once again, she turned around long enough to apologise to the man she had just bumped into, dark black hair whipping out, and took off into a simpler, dimly-lit rapid-transit corridor, intended for cargo haulers but used by just about everyone.

Standing at about 1.7 metres (give or take a couple centimetres), Angela was of African descent and wasn't the most plain-looking woman to exist, yet she wasn't exceptional either – a balance she found incredibly convenient. She waved in a friendly manner at a random merchant, having to consciously resist the urge to laugh as the person she had waved to gave her a hesitant look before continuing onwards, letting her hand fall to her average-sized-hips. While she wasn't particularly large, her apple-shaped body still carried a healthy look to it, and she made sure people realised she was proud of it.

Turning left into an inconspicuous service tunnel, Angela stopped for a moment to look out the window and stare at what made this route her favourite: the endless expanse of space, stars dotting the black canvas of the universe, with the graceful curve of Gezobe's surface providing some foreground contrast laid just behind the glass. The first thing to know about Angela (if you could get past her almost-infuriatingly-gregarious front) was that she loved- no, "loved" would be a gross understatement; Angela was head-over-heels obsessed with space and astronomy, which was a major influence in her decision to be a traffic operator on Korona Station – after all, when someone like Angela adored space so much, how could they resist the opportunity to live up there? The good pay was a plus too, but it was mostly the promise of being able to live amongst the stars that got her interested.

She stared longingly at the reinforced, metre-thick glass before sighing longingly and thinking _"Look, you really need to get to the communications-centre because your break is going to be over in a few minutes and oh GOD you're going to be LATE HURRY UP!"_ Breaking into a mad sprint, she rushed out of the service tunnel and into another rapid-transit corridor, shouting unintelligible apologies to everyone she knocked into, feet clanging in a rising crescendo against the metal floor. A few minutes and an elevator ride later, she arrived panting at the rather-imposing-door to the communications centre, and frantically entered the access code before picking up speed again-

-only to have to stop immediately afterwards to avoid crashing into her co-commander, who was about to leave.

"Oh, Angela! I was just about to go looking for you!" Only just shorter than Angela at 1.69 metres, Cameron Xander stared at Angela with his hazel eyes in a concerned manner, noticing just how exhausted she looked. "…are you okay? You don't look too good".

Angela, still panting, mustered what energy she hadn't used getting here in a valiant attempt to reassure him. "Oh, I….I'm fine, *pant* chie…chief…*pant*…" In her panic she had forgotten that, even if she had been late, Cameron could have easily taken over while she was gone and nothing would have come of it; such was the policy known as the Dichotomous Rule, which involved having two people possessing the same rank being in command of any group - be it blue-collar or white-collar - so that in the event of either commanding officer being unable to go to work that day, the command structure wouldn't be incomplete and plunge into chaos.

Gently pushing Cameron to the side, and ignoring the stares of the more inquisitive crew members, she made her way over to the left, star-side of the communications centre where her command terminal resided. Finally relaxing, she looked around the large, hemispherical room that she adored as much as the route she had just taken.

The Communications Centre of Korona Station, if not for all the blocky, grey terminals dotting the walkways and huge blue screens hanging from the centre of the room's 12m high ceiling, would have looked like an observatory; a ring of glass panels lined the walls, intercepted by the entrance, offering a breathtaking view of Gezobe's extreme-upper atmosphere and the Class G star it orbited, Nostroma, and allowing for the scrutiny of the various trade and passenger ships docking, taking off, and passing by. Angela offered a nod and a friendly smile to a crewman walking by, taking her position at her terminal overlooking the circular amphitheatre where the traffic controllers worked. Over on the opposite end of the room was Cameron at his terminal, who shot Angela a quick smile before returning to his work.

"_Oh right, work. Not on break anymore, focus."_ Chiding herself, Angela powered up her terminal, orange screen lighting up, logged on, and started looking through the list of things she had to do. It was going to be a long day, it seemed, as the list was basically void of any issues to be addressed – Cameron must have taken all the work again in an attempt to get a promotion. _"I mean, he's a sorta decent guy"_, Angela thought, _"but he works way too hard. I mean, he knows the higher-ups don't just throw out promotions like that, right?"_

Sighing in exasperation and boredom, she was snapped out of her introspective stupor when she noticed one of the crewmen…. Alex, was it?... trying to get her attention. _"Poor girl must have gotten a bad terminal"_ Angela thought in sympathy as she made her way over, wondering what the bitch known as fate had handed out to the new recruit.

"What's up? Is it a glitch?" Angela started.

"Morning, Ma'am, and no… well, I don't think so…" Alex muttered, bringing up the timetable of arrivals and departures for the Nostroma system. "It's just… the system told me that there was a large convoy coming in from phase space, and that it was going to exit near Gezobe, but…" Gesturing wordlessly, Angela scanned the timetable at Alex's prompting and found the problem: no convoy, commercial or otherwise, was scheduled to arrive at this time. Given the grand insanity that was the Trade Order bureaucracy, it was no idle issue; every ship, regardless of purpose for travelling, had to notify the authorities of any world when they were going to arrive in-system. Angela leant back, realising it wasn't going to be a boring day after all. "Ok then, well I'd say we should contact Gezo-"

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa!"_ Alex interrupted, suddenly typing madly at her terminal. "Ma'am, this is going to sound weird as hell, but the convoy's just picked up speed, and a hell of a lot of it too".

"Picked up _speed?_ In _**phase-space?**_" Angela couldn't believe it; from what little she remembered of phase engines from high school, ships available for civilian use going through phase-space could only travel at a fixed rate, never being able to accelerate nor decelerate. For a ship of any kind to be able to change speed in this case either had to be military, or-

"Ah, shit". Pirates; after the dissolution of the Trade Order's military, pirate attacks struck everywhere trying to get at the precious phase-engines used by the decommissioned warships, as they were the only ones designed to change a ships velocity in-transit. "Alex, tell the planetary forces, we need them mobilised an-"

Alex turned around, wearing a face of utter bewilderment. "No, ma'am, they're going way too fast. I mean, they're going to be here _any moment now_ too fast". She paused to catch her breath. "Ma'am, forgive me for sounding like an idiot, but… I don't think these ships are Human".

"That's not- that's ridiculous!" And yet Angela knew better; there was at least one alien race that the Trade Order had encountered centuries ago, their name long forgotten, that had been removed from their desert home world and driven out of Trade Order space after they had learnt that this race had been regularly committing horrific atrocities, acts that this race considered normal. That these incoming ships may not have been Human was hardly surprising, now that she thought about it.

But it gave way to an even more unsettling question that Angela couldn't answer: if they're coming back, are they here for revenge?

Before Angela could ponder the thought further, several phase-transit warnings sounded across the station, telling everyone inside the communications centre that the ships were going to be arriving very close to the station. Not a moment later, flashes of golden-yellow light blinked into existence several hundred kilometres from the station, bizarre looking silhouettes standing out against Nostroma and casting shadows across the station. By that point everyone in the room was up against the windows, trying to get a look at what had just appeared above Gezobe, Angela and Cameron included.

Cameron, ever the calm-and-collected leader in a crisis, turned to Angela sharply. "What the fuck is going on!?"

Angela's response was just as confused, with a dash of annoyance. "How the hell should I know? It's not every day we get freakish-looking ships popping up out of nowhere after _speeding up in phase-space!_"

A nearby crewman, eavesdropping on their conversation, rounded on Angela, face having turned the palest white. "I'm sorry ma'am, but did you say what I think you bloody said?"

Someone else spoke up. "Wait, what? Those things can accelerate through phase-space? What the hell are those-"

"Jesus fucking _Christ_ man, WE'RE GONNA DIE!" Someone wailed, prompting the crew to voice their questions in a rush of panic. The sound was overwhelming and, frankly, pissing Angela off, but she was beaten to the punch when Cameron suddenly intervened:

"Everyone, SHUT UP!"

Silence filled the communications centre once more. The tension in the air was palpable as everyone waited as patiently as they could for their commanding officer to explain why they had to stay calm when what appeared to be invaders were descending upon both Gezobe and the station-that-they-had-to-get-right-the-hell-off-of.

Taking a calming breath, Cameron finally eased his subordinates' minds. "Look, in the _unlikely_ event that these guys are aliens, or pirates, or whatever-the-hell-they-are", pausing to throw a frustrated glance at the man who had announced their apparent demise, "the big-wigs on the surface will send up an envoy ship to talk to them."

He then turned to face Angela, which naturally led to everyone else turning to her. "And regardless, Chief Angela can send an SOS to all of our nearby neighbours in other systems. They can send help if things get pissy." Of course, what the SOS really meant was that it gave them time to prepare for any attacks – if the SOS had to be activated, then it was already too late for Gezobe.

Cameron looked to the window. "Look, there's the envoy right there. You see? Everything's gonna be fine."

True to his word, a Geneva-class Envoy ship, basically a grey, flying, cylinder-ended-rectangle with 4 engines at each corner of the rear of the ship, was slowly rising from Gezobe's surface, making its way over to the small fleet that was getting closer and closer. Indeed, now that they were closer and the situation seemed to have gotten a little better, Angela scrutinised the incoming ships and rapidly came to a conclusion:

Whatever the hell they were, they looked alien.

The leading ship looked sort-of like a flattened cuttlefish, all graceful curves ending with sharp points, with what appeared to be hangars running along the sides and underbelly of the ship. Above it and to the right seemed like a flying missile silo, not unlike the long-decommissioned Javelis missile boats, only this seemed more… menacing, with a pincer-like front and god-knows-how-many ridges and lights dotting its surface.

There were various other large ships that Angela noticed were all various shades of grey-purple and decorated with royal purple lights, including a giant metal egg, a bar surrounded by a circle, and what appeared to be a horizontal hourglass, but the carrier and missile silo kept being the focus of her attention; besides, there was a bunch of debris stopping her from seeing anything else.

"_Oh"_ Angela muttered to herself when she remembered that all orbital debris was either shipped off or destroyed. No, those were _even more ships_.

Suddenly, an old, rasping voice sounded over the speakers, one that carried decades of experience and authority. "Attention, unknown vessels. This is Tyler Jaeger of the Gezobe planetary commission of the Trade Order. You are not authorised to enter this airspace, and must either vacate immediately or face charges".

By this point the envoy had stopped completely, waiting a couple hundred kilometres from the still-approaching fleet, who had yet to respond.

Again, Tyler addressed the unknown fleet. "I repeat, unknown vessels. This is Tyler Jaeger of the Gezobe planetary commission of the Trade Order. You are not authorised to enter this airspace, and must either vacate immediately or face charges. Respond".

Again, that unnerving silence as the ships kept going, seemingly oblivious to the demands of the ambassador.

For the third time, Tyler tried to address the fleet. "Unknown vessels, this is your last warning. Vacate this system or you will be charged with trespassing in Trade Order-"

Without any prior warning, Tyler was cut off when something that sounded vaguely like a monstrous baby trying to talk came over the speakers. Angela had no idea what it was, but the guttural, almost hissing sounds seemed to be…

"_Coherent?!"_ Angela stood there, mouth hanging in shock, as the rest of the crew came to the realisation that something was talking to them at about the same time.

Was Alex right? Were these trespassers aliens never encountered before? Was this the second time they have made contact with a sentient race?

Tyler started speaking once more, but no-one was paying attention, still trying to wrap their heads around the notion that they were being met with an alien, sentient intelligence. Of course, it ultimately didn't matter what was being said, regardless of the now furious way the ambassador was demanding the aliens halted, because it seemed at that moment that whoever had just spoken to them had finally had enough, and a thin, sickly-yellow beam leapt from the bow of the carrier and destroyed the envoy ship.


	3. -Chapter 2: Evacuation-

**The Sins of a Solar Empire - Evacuation**

**_Author's Note: _**_At this stage there is very little that I can say to justify my absence and lack of writing. I'll be quick, so that you can sooner continue reading, but I want to inform you that I may try to rewrite the first chapter (not the prologue) in an attempt to try and make it better._

_Anyway, I won't keep you anymore. Sorry for the delay :(_

_P.S. I'm introducing a couple tracks this chapter, and with that in mind I'm introducing a symbol, indicating that the next track is to be played:_

(X)

_Please note that it is not necessary for the music to be played with the chapters; it is only a way I came up with to add atmosphere to each chapter._

**Track 1: Desperate**

**Track 2: Quiet 6**

**_DISCLAIMER:_** I could come up with... honestly a pathetic number of reasons why Sins of a Solar Empire should belong to me and not Ironclad Games, but ultimately it'll stay with them, no matter how many times I pray to RNGeesus. Oh, and the OCs present are MAINEH.

* * *

_Korona Central Commerce Station_

_Geostationary orbit over Gezobe_

_Nostroma System, Trade Order Outer Rim_

Before the wreckage of the _Geneva_ had even reached the upper atmosphere of Gezobe and started to burn up, Angela and Cameron had ordered the crew to their stations, knowing that SOS calls and transports requesting permission to leave would start swamping communication channels across every station in orbit in a few moments. Angela herself had just reached her console - snatching a quick look at Cameron doing the same - before a deep, looping whine filled the communications center, signalling the start of evacuations.

She still couldn't quite believe it, even after seeing it for herself; Aliens? _That came out of nowhere?_ Absurd - and yet here they were, trying to evacuate an outer rim planet from an invasion force that had only given them seconds of warning before arrival.

She shuddered, realizing the implications of such Phasespace mastery, before she registered Cameron shouting at her, running over to her console as he made his way past panicking officers, muffled pleas for aid from terminals, and the hauntingly constant sound of alien weapons discharging on-

"_Angela!_" Cameron finally reached her and grabbed her shoulders, making sure she was focused on him. It was the worst time to think about it, but Angela was glad for his cool-headed focus in situations like this; she could handle most big deals that came up when she was handling aggravated commuters and merchants arguing for a particular arrival time at the station, but Cameron was the one who - at least - had a better grip on his fear than she did when pirates came knocking on Gezobe's door.

Finally, she returned her focus to Cameron's heated muttering, holding up her hands in defense and trying to get a word out. "Hey, hey, hey! I'm sorry, but could you repeat that please? I wasn't... focusing..."

He stared at her, wide-eyed with confusion, before realization dawned on him and he cursed before starting again. "As I was _saying_, there's no way the PDF can hope to stop that fleet - you know what that means"

Now it was her turn to stare at her co-commander in confusion. "What? What do you mean I-"

Oh. Right.

The SOS beacon.

Not wasting any more time, she raced over to the SOS beacon at the heart of the communications center, fumbling in her right pocket for her ID card. She arrived at the cylindrical pedestal as Cameron pulled out his ID, and inserted it into a slot on his side of the terminal. Following his lead, she waited with growing angst as the terminal started up, looking outside to find that the PDF had mobilized anyway, engaging in a battle they would have been doomed to lose with three times the ships the aliens had. A ringing sound caught her attention, as she focused on the question poised by the terminal and vocalized by a monotone synthesiser:

"Are you sure you wish to activate the SOS beacon?"

Glancing up at Cameron long enough to nod in affirmation at him, they both answered yes-they-would-like-to-activate-the-damn-beacon-thank-you-very-much, and entered the security codes requested before they were notified that the SOS was activated.

"Okay," Angela started, "We shouldn't stay here anymore. At this stage there's just about nothing else we can do save for getting everyone out of here." Cameron looked like he was about to protest, and she could clearly imagine what he would use to argue for their staying a little while longer, but a nearby officer had overheard and spoke up.

"Wait, did you say we were getting out of here?" Everyone was gazed at Cameron and awaited his answer, knowing that Angela's decision ultimately meant nothing if he didn't agree. Such was one of the major principles of Dichotomous Rule; in order to prevent fracturing of groups and companies in times of crisis, and to prevent manipulation of the lower ranked members, both leaders if present and fit to command had to agree to a decision before it could be enacted. Cameron seemed lost for a moment, probably justifying to himself why evacuating now was the best option - he was one of those "go down with the ship" types who insisted on being one of the last to escape a crisis, arguing that all the other occupants were more important than the commanding officers and their crew.

A few moments of silence passed before he sighed in defeat. "I... I guess. But we need to move now, before all the lifeboats are used up."

_"Cameron, I think this is usually the part in movies where I would kiss you but now is not the time and I don't feel that way about you"_ "OK, you heard him, we need to go! A- _Don't_ bother signing out of your terminal, Adam!" She made her way to the door, making sure everyone was following her, and grabbed Cameron's arm. "You know the layout of the station, where's the nearest evacuation point?"

"I-" He shut his eyes in concentration, going through the stations' plans for a few moments before blurting "End of the corridor, turn right, down one flight of stairs, turn right again, straight ahead." He turned to her. "That doesn't necessarily mean that there'll still be pods there. You know how desperate people are when their lives are at stake, and they would've looked as fast as possible for a way off the station."

She looked behind her shoulder and shouted "Ok everyone, follow me and Cameron!" She turned into the next corridor when a deep boom resounded through the station, the lights flickering and dying as gasps of shock sounded from the crowd of people behind her.

No one moved in the next few moments, too afraid to move. Even as the emergency lights came on, it was still quiet - quiet enough that Angela could hear screaming. Desperate to know what did that, she raced to a nearby window, assuming the worst.

_"Oh, why was I right **now!?**"_ She gazed through the window, and beheld a terrible scene: Gezobe's sky laced with fire and debris, the invaders already moving on from the PDF to the defenseless orbital structures nearby, alien fighters and warships bisecting stations with beams and projectiles of light. She froze as she noticed that one of the larger ships - one of the missile silo-looking ones - was coming to a stop near their station, purple and white lights streaked across it.

She stepped back in terror, realization dawning on her. "Everyone, below deck, NOW!" She shoved people towards the stairs, too panicked to explain why they were suddenly running for their lives, as Alex forced her way through the throb of people; her plea for an explanation went unanswered, however, when they left the stairwell to find the pod bay completely empty.

"No... no no no! Cameron, the pods are gone! Is there another way off the station?"

He paused, and quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah... I'll need to get to a terminal so I can check the flight manifest and figure out where we need to go." With that he pushed past her, racing to the pods and activating the terminal on the adjacent wall. Angela, trusting Cameron to find a way out, made her way to Alex and grabbed her arm.

"Alex, listen to me. Cameron's trying to find another pod, or shuttle, or whatever, to get us off the station. I need you to get everyone ready to bolt the moment Cameron finds us something, OK?"

Alex frowned, eyes twinkling with determination. "Won't be a problem ma'am." She turned around and shouted to get the attention of the communications crew, as Cameron sprinted over from the terminal.

"There's a commercial shuttle a few floors down, in hangar bay 4. It was loading stock when the aliens arrived, so I'd say there's a fair chance that it's still there." He paused, then nodded again. "Follow me, I know where we're going."

Cameron began making his way to the stairwell when a series of explosions rocked the station, shouts of alarm filling the corridor as bodies were thrown about and the emergency lights flickered and died. No one dared to move, silence pressing down on them like the alien warship outside, until Cameron coughed.

"Erm... There's a cargo ship down in hangar bay 4 loading supplies... We'd probably make it..."

The contrast between the moment before Cameron spoke and the moment immediately afterwards was striking; the mass of bodies lining the floor exploded into movement, people scrambling to reach the stairwell and find salvation below their feet. Angela tried to keep pace with Cameron, but she was already swallowed into the tightly-pressed crowd, forced to move at the pace set by everyone else. Angela started to wonder - now, of all times? - if there was still time to get down to the hangar. After all, the alien warship had presumably already launched a salvo of... whatever it used, at the station, and what's to say that it was about to launch another salvo, and now she was overthinking this and panicking an-

Without really paying much attention to where she was going, she snapped out of her contemplation session and realized that they had reached the hangar, a cavern of metal and light as long and wide as a small cruiser. Looking down from the railing, she saw a standard trade ship docked just below them and by the hangar doors, shipmates hauling cargo up a ramp and into the storage container attached to the ship. She started to make her way down as Cameron tried to get their attention, already a few flights of stairs below them.

"Hey! Up here!" He waved, jumping down the last few steps before sprinting over to one of the shipmates. "Listen, we need a ship off the station, and we noticed that your ship was still here. We'd really appreciate it if-"

"We ain't picking up anyone, not with this much cargo" drawled a woman in a captain's outfit, making her way over to the group, limping on an elaborate ebony walking stick. "This ship can only hold so much before it can't fly, and I don't intend to leave this station without every purchase I made on board."

"I- I'm not going to pretend that I understand, but these people need to get off and your ship was the closest to the communications center. We don't have time to find another ship, or find some more lifepods, we're sorry but we can't go find someone else-"

More explosions, this time alarmingly close to their location, and the hangar doors groaned in protest. The captain's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, her eyes never leaving the source of the noise, before unleashing a string of swears, kicking over a crate with her good leg, and turning to Cameron. "Fine, we'll take you all on." She whipped around to face her crew. "Get these people onto the ship, now!"

Watching her as she limped to the ramp, Angela let herself sink into relief for a moment, glad that they were going to be OK, when she swore that she heard something groaning. Trying to find the source of the noise, she suddenly heard the unmistakable, harsh screech of metal tearing, and suddenly the hangar doors were breached, the hangar depressurizing and pulling cargo, oxygen, and people alike into the cold vacuum of space.

"Everyone, onto the ship!" Angela shouted, pushing people towards the ramp as screams rose from terrified men and women struggling to push against the pull of vacuum. Turning around to make sure everyone was making their way to the ship, she noticed Alex gripping a stair support and holding onto a man's arm, trying to pull him back and get him to safety. Trying to get her attention, she realized that Alex couldn't hold on to herself much longer, let alone both of them, and decided she needed to get there and at least save her.

Making her way to the hangar wall and grabbing on, she slowly edged her way to Alex's location, constantly shifting her attention between making sure she wasn't slipping, and to make sure that Alex was still in place.

Alex only had maybe a few moments before she lost her grip.

Reaching the stairs, Angela began phase two of her impromptu plan: Pull Alex and hope that the man came with her. Grabbing her sleeve with one hand, and holding onto the wall with another, she put all her strength into bringing Alex back, when she realised that Alex was shouting at her.

-to the ship, I'll be fine!"

Angela stopped. "Wh- what? What did you say?!"

Alex's head swivelled around, before whipping back and redoubling her efforts to pull the man – who was now shouting at Alex – to safety. She turned again, and shouted again: "I've got him ma'am, just get back to the ship, I'll be fine!"

Angela did a double-take. "Wha-? You're barely holding on! How could you possibly save yourself _and_ him!?"

Before Alex could respond a metal plate was ripped from the wall, barely missing the man and grazing the ship. With an opportunity to speak, the man focused his attention on Alex. "Listen, the COs' right! You can't save us both! Just let me go and get out of here!"

Alex froze, not quite willing to accept that she couldn't save him. Sighing in resignation, the man spoke again, almost unnoticeable in the howling wind. "…I'll make your choice easy, then."

And he let go, falling towards the open hangar doors and into space.

Alex screamed, and Angela quickly grabbed her and started returning to the ship, Cameron hanging by the partially-closed cargo door and beckoning for them to get inside. After reaching the door and dragging in Alex, the ramp was shut and she felt the ship lurch as it rose and shot out of the station.

Cameron walked up to her. "Angela, you ok?"

Handing the now-shaking Alex to another officer, she turned back to Cameron. "Yeah, I'm fine. I can't say the same for her, though."

Cameron's eyes flicked over to Alex, huddled on the ground and being consoled by what he presumed were two of her friends, and grunted in agreement. "She'll be fine. Anyway, the captain wants us on the bridge, and I don't think she's the sort of person who likes people taking time to follow her orders."

(X)

* * *

After asking one of the captain's crew where the captain was, they were guided by the same man to the bridge, where they found the captain leaning on her stick and staring out through the windows in front of her. After passing a few occupied terminals, they came to a stop at either side of the captain, about to ask her what they were needed for before realising that the captain was never looking out the windows – she was gazing at camera feeds displayed on some overhead monitors.

Angela's mind was reeling as she took in a vision of the end, watching helplessly as the alien warship that had approached their station was joined by a few more cruisers, laying down a menacing barrage of missiles and annihilating what little remained of the station. Somehow the atmosphere of Gezobe was coloured a fiery red, although she quickly assumed that it was a result of laser bombardments courtesy of yet more alien vessels, blood-red beams carving apart cities on the surface.

"Just letting you two know that this isn't why I called you up here." Snapping them out of their stupor, the captain switched the monitors back to feed out data concerning the ships' status, stepping forward and turning to face them. "I just felt that given how long we're likely to spend together racing like hell to the nearest TO world we should start with proper introductions. Name's Tessa Crowley, though my crew tend to refer to me as just 'Cap'n Crow', still can't decide whether that's a compliment or an insult, and I'm the captain of the _Pompeii_. Might I ask for your names?"

Cameron beat Angela to the punch, although she wasn't about to complain about it. "My name's Cameron Tyson, co-commander of the communications centre on Korona Central Commerce Station with Angela Ballard here. Given how long we're likely to spend together racing like hell to the nearest TO world, as you put it, might I ask what we're doing and where we're going?"

Tessa chuckled. "Ah, I think I'm gonna like you, Cameron. And to answer your question, we're going to head off to the nearest TO world with half-decent comms and try and warn everyone that a bunch of alien assholes was on our doorstep and then kicked the door down." She paused. "I know what I said doesn't match up with the first impression I must've given, but I assure you I'm not a total asshole; I'm not too comfortable with the idea that people could end up dyin' left right and centre, and I'm sure as hell not gonna stand by and watch when I have the chance to stop it."

"I don't think either of us was thinking that, but it's good to hear that you're not an… asshole anyway" Angela piped up. "But just warning everyone isn't really going to do a lot of good. What's the point of announcing that our territory is being invaded when all we could really do at the moment is twiddle our thumbs and wait for them to come and burn us alive?"

The bridge was silent for a few moments, kept from being total by their breathing and the beeping of terminals. Tessa shrugged. "Well… I don't know much about central policy, but I'd imagine that the folks down in the core worlds will probably meet up and decide to reform the military. As you said, no one's gonna be particularly excited 'bout the prospect of waiting to be blown up. But for now I think we should focus on our little game plan." She turned and limped over to one of the terminals, spinning the occupied chair around so the officer was facing her. "Antonio! Set us a course for the Xi system!"

He sputtered for a moment, probably frustrated that he'd been spun around for no logical reason, and then turned around again, replying over his shoulder. "Yeah yeah, I got it! Didn't have to spin me the bloody hell round for me to hear ya!"

Tessa crossed her arms, an amused smirk crossing her features. "I would have, if I didn't know you for being the one idiot on this ship who doesn't respond to anything that isn't in front of them. Now get to it!"

"Oh, up yours too Crow!" Offering her the one-finger salute, Angela felt the atmosphere on the bridge lighten considerably as she developed an awareness on how life on the ship must be like when business was going as usual.

"So now that that's settled, how 'bout we go and see to _your_ crew? I'll need to know how many of y'all are down there before I can figure out where to put you."

Angela looked to Cameron, who shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, but I want to be up here, keep an eye on our progress. If that's acceptable, Crow?"

Tessa laughed. "That's _captain_ Crow to you, and go ahead, I won't need both of you." She crossed over to the door, stopping as she reached the stairs leading into the rest of the _Pompeii_ and turning on the spot to look at Angela. "You comin', or am I to take your inaction as an opportunity to make y'all part of my crew?"

Angela stayed where she was for a few moments longer, before smiling and following the captain down to the cargo hold.

* * *

**_EXTRA AUTHOR'S NOTE:_** Sorry for the interruption, but I just wanted to add that I've decided to look for a beta-reader to basically do two things:

1\. Make sure I'm actually writing.

2\. _Look_ at the things I'm writing and telling me how crap it is, and how to make it better.

I primarily want a beta-reader for the first point, just to clarify. Anyway, the position is ripe for the taking! Anyone who's interested can PM me whenever you like, but preferably soon. Another thing I'd like to quickly add before ending the chapter is that for the purposes of the story I'm going to try and adhere to the canon established by Ironclad as much as possible, but I'm going to have to make up some of my own s*** at one point or another just to keep the story flowing.

Anyway, that'll do from me. See ya guys :)


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